


I said I had a plan, I didn't say it was a good plan

by ladypigswagon



Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Succubus, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 14:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3653490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladypigswagon/pseuds/ladypigswagon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles scrambles round the corner, his feet flailing wildly. How the succubus can run in those impossible high heels is beyond him. He really should have waited for back up instead of barreling in there like a madman. On the flip side at the least the guy the succubus was about to devour is alive, Stiles however might not be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I said I had a plan, I didn't say it was a good plan

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked: Steter - i said i had a plan, i never said it was a good one

Stiles scrambles round the corner, his feet flailing wildly. How the succubus can run in those impossible high heels is beyond him. He really should have waited for back up instead of barreling in there like a madman. On the flip side at the least the guy the succubus was about to devour is alive, Stiles however might not be.

He almost runs into a fire hydrant, jumping it at the last second and almost breaking an ankle on the landing. His breathing is laboured now, loud panting filling the dark night, a soundtrack to his doom, accompanied by the loud clack of trashy high heels.

Stiles ducks down a dark alleyway, struggling to remove his phone from his jeans. He presses buttons at random, forgetting who he has on speed dial.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Stiles mutters. The succubus is calling his name, her toxic perfume is overpowering and getting closer.

“Come out Stiles,” She sings, saccharine sweet and sickly, “I can make it worth your while.”

Bad porno much?

“Stiles,” a voice drawls in Stiles ear, “To what do I owe the pleasure at 2.38 am.”

Fuck he meant to call Derek not Peter.

“Well that’s charming,” Peter replies, “I personally consider myself a better conversationalist than my nephew but to each their own.”

“Peter I’m going to get eaten by a succubus in about five minutes and she’s already destroyed my baseball bat so please shut up and help me,” Stiles hisses into the phone, pressing himself further again the alley wall in attempt to become one with it.

“What did you do? Where are you?”

“In the alleyway behind the book store Erica likes,” Stiles whispers, “Just come and help me.”

“Stay on the line,” Peter instructs. 

The succubus appears at the mouth of the alleyway, her pretty red nails lengthening into blood dipped claws.

“Come out pretty boy,” She catcalls, “Come out and play.”

Stiles ducks down behind a dumpster, praying to every deity that ever existed that he doesn’t die here. He so doesn’t want to die in a pee stained alleyway at the hands of a succubus, especially one he could have defeated if she hadn’t moved at the last second. The succubus is still calling for him, her perfume curling around Stiles like chokehold. Stiles realises that if he hadn’t seen her true face, he’d probably be on his knees in front of her right now.

“Stop playing games Stiles,” the succubus screeches, “I’m not in the—”

Her voice is cut off suddenly, replaced with gasping and a roar. Stiles peeks out from behind the dumpster to see Peter holding the succubus by her throat against the wall, eyes blazing bright blue. 

“Don’t touch him,” Peter growls, claws digging deeper into the succubus’s flesh. Her facade keeps flickering like a broken hologram, twisting between a buxom blonde and the feral ugly creature beneath. Peter rips her throat out with his claws, her black blood splattering the ground and surrounding wall. The sweet perfume smell is replaced with the scent of sweat and death. The succubus’s body folds in on itself, crumbling to dust which Peter treads into the ground as if stubbing out a cigarette. 

Stiles comes out from his hiding place, tingling with adrenaline and nervous energy. Peter turns to him, hands fashioned into fists.

“How could you be so stupid?” Peter says, his calm face hiding a storm, “You could have been killed.”

“I had a plan,” Stiles replies feebly.

“A plan?” Peter scoffs.

“I said I had a plan, I didn’t say it was a good one,” Stiles retorts, “I almost had her, she moved at the last second and got hold of my bat.”

“Why didn’t you take someone with you?” Peter asks, his fingers slowly unfolding, claws carefully hidden.

“To prove something I suppose,” Stiles mutters. “Prove I’m not weak.”

That statement ends with Peter pressing Stiles against the wall, boxing him in.

“You are many things,” Peter says, cupping Stiles jaw, “But weak is not one of them.” 

Stiles leans up into Peter’s kiss, pulling him closer, hungrily responding. Peter is gentle with his hands but vicious with his teeth, nipping at Stiles lips, forcing them to part. Peter takes and takes until he’s satisfied, leaving Stiles breathless and exhilarated and aroused.

“You’re coming home with me,” Peter says, his voicing tinged with a growl, “And you’re not leaving until I am satisfied that I have examined every inch of you.”

Stiles nods dumbly and lets himself be taken.


End file.
